


hidden stars, hidden feelings

by heartburns



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Bisexual Richie Tozier, Boys Kissing, First Kiss, Fluff, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Help, I’m sorry, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oneshot, Rated T for language, Soft Boys, i love them, it’s cliché, lots of swearing, they’re Gone™
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 04:36:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13263825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartburns/pseuds/heartburns
Summary: There’s a way that Richie’s dark eyes crinkle up when he laughs that always makes Eddie’s stomach do a little somersault.But he’s too busy clutching at his sides, eyes brimming with tears as he giggles, to pay too much attention to it this time.





	hidden stars, hidden feelings

**Author's Note:**

> is it really a reddie fic if richie doesn’t climb through eddie’s window in the early hours of the morning? seriously, though, this fic is pretty tropey, so i apologize for that. regardless, enjoy!

For all he considers himself to be, Richie Tozier is simply not stealthy in any way, shape, or form.

This becomes even more apparent as the lanky fifteen-year-old struggles to scale the wall of his best friend’s house in the dead of night. Fuck, what is he even doing here? It’s midnight, and it’s hot out, and it’s stupid. But it’s also Eddie Kaspbrak, and Richie’s knows that he’s the only person he wants to see right now.

With a handful of colorful curses and  
pained grunts, Richie manages to scramble up onto the roof of the Kaspbrak house. Distractedly, he notices he ripped the cuff of his jeans on the gutter but decides to neglect it. 

Ever since the summer of 1989, this roof became all too familiar to Richie. He’s sure he’d memorized every loose shingle where he couldn’t step, every crack in the crowning around Eddie’s window. He knows exactly how loud he could get before waking up Sonia Kaspbrak, and just the right way he could climb through the frame without hitting his head. 

Hell, he could barely even fit anymore. Right before the start of freshman year, Richie shot up ahead of all the other Losers and now resided at six-foot-two (and growing). That pissed Mike off, since he was forced to give up his title as the tallest among the group, and God knows Richie never let the poor sap forget it. 

That same summer, he also began to grow into his features a bit, hands no longer so awkward and nose no longer too big for his face. He even let his curly hair grow wild, and it now reached to the nape of his neck. 

Richie still has his glasses, though. They aren’t the buggy coke-bottle ones he’s worn since the third grade, as those unfortunately been snapped in half after Beverly Marsh dared him to go for a swim in the quarry in the middle of January, and he’d accidentally stepped on them while climbing out of the freezing water. The new pair is less bulky, less magnified, but they’re still Richie. At first, he was opposed to them, anxious over how the other Losers would react, as an updated look typically made the Trashmouth more vulnerable to criticism than he would like. Thankfully, though, his friends paid it no mind, even getting excited for the boy. Eddie mumbled something about how he liked them, and then Richie supposed that his new ‘specs couldn’t be that bad after all.

He smiles to himself at the memory, carefully making his way to Eddie’s window.

Richie glances at his watch. 1:07. He can see the sleeping figure of Eddie, breathing softly, feeling a twinge of guilt in his stomach as he realizes he has to wake him up. He already made it all the way up here, though, so he rationalizes that it’d be pointless to turn back now. Richie curls his fingers into a fist and raps on the glass three times. Knock, knock, knock.

The smaller boy shifts almost immediately, turning instinctively towards the source of the noise. As his eyes lazily blink open, he’s greeted by a grinning Richie Tozier, crouched on the roof, waving at him through the glass. Richie can see Eddie roll his eyes, but the window opens for him anyway. It always does.

Richie squeezes his body through the frame and plops down onto the plushy window seat. “Hiya, Eds!”

“Fuck do you want, Richie?” Eddie grumbles, sleep seeping into his voice. Cute. “And don’t call me that.”

“Nice to see you, too, Sleeping Beauty,” Richie teases, pinching the other boy’s cheek with a smirk.

Eddie swats his hand away half-heartedly. “Really, Rich, what are you doing here? It’s late.”

“Well, after I banged your mom last night, she told me she wanted round two, so - ”

“Shut the fuck up, Richie,” Eddie cuts him off, sighing and flicking on the lamp on his bedside table. He’s fully expecting some sort of crude retort, some gross remark, but instead there is a beat of uncharacteristic silence. Richie looks away. For some odd reason, no words can form in his throat nor stumble their way out of his mouth.

Sneaking a glance up at his friend, Richie notices uncomfortably that Eddie seems to be studying him, peering at him scrutinizingly with those big brown eyes. The only sounds in the room are of the two boys’ quiet breathing and the spring breeze wafting in through the open window as Eddie looks him up and down. The intensity of his eyes are really putting Richie on edge. What is he doing?

Feeling rather awkward now, Richie unconsciously rubs the back of his neck, making Eddie scrunch up his freckled nose. Richie’s heart sinks. Shit. One fucking nervous tick is really all it takes for Eddie to figure him out, to read him like a motherfucking book. So goddamn pathetic.

“Rich… is everything okay?” All signs of previous irritation and annoyance are gone.

Richie tries a Voice. “Why, don’t you worry ‘bout lil’ ol’ me, good sir! You’re gonna make me blush, Pete’s sake, I tell ya!”

Eddie frowns. Southern Belle isn’t working on him tonight. “Is this about your parents?” He peers at Richie with worried eyes.

Fuck, what now? Think, Tozier. He swallows hard. Anything, anything, anything…

“Hey, uh… wanna go to the Barrens?” It comes out raspier than intended.

“Are you insane?” Eddie’s eyes flash. “My mom’ll have a fucking heart attack.”

Richie knows this is coming, of course, and wiggles his eyebrows obnoxiously. “Well, Eddie Spaghetti, she won’t have a heart attack ‘cause she’s never gonna find out. Jesus, all this time I thought you were supposed to be the smart one.”

“And what if we get caught, dipshit? I’ll never leave this house again. Not to mention, my mom hid my bike after I scraped my knee last week, so - ”

“I don’t even know why you’re protesting this so much, Eds.” Richie leans in closer, lips as near to the other boy’s ear as they can get without making contact. The ear’s so small, Richie notices, and the tips are turning pink. He feels Eddie stiffen and suppresses the fact that it makes his heart skip. “You can wrap your cute little arms around my waist and we’ll ride together, just like they do in the movies. C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

“Asshole,” Eddie mutters, but he’s already slipping on a pair of shorts. Richie watches with a triumphant smirk as Eddie clips on his fanny pack and meticulously ties the laces of his black Converse.

If his back isn’t turned, though, Richie would see the blush spreading like wildfire across Eddie’s cheeks.

 

The quarry is one of Eddie’s favorite places to be. Sure, it’s germy and dirty and full of bacteria, but it holds so many beautiful memories that even he can ignore the filth of the murky water. He still thinks about the time Richie swooped him up and carried him to the edge of the cliff by the quarry, Eddie’s fists pounding wildly against his back in protest. 

“Put me the fuck down, Richie!” he screams, red-faced for several reasons, but the taller boy already has the perfect response in mind. 

“You want me to put you down, Spaghetti Man? Well, anything for you, babe.”

Of course, anyone could’ve guessed what would happen next. Eddie is sure he can never forget how hard Richie was laughing as he watched him free-fall down to the water, joined by the cackles of the rest of the Loser’s Club. Eddie hadn’t spoken to Richie for a week after that, until he’d shown up at Eddie’s window with an apologetic smile and a brand new mixtape in hand, made just for him. Just for him.

The harsh buzzing of a firefly zipping past his ear jolts Eddie from his thoughts. He’s now laying on the soft grass by that same cliff, only this time it’s dark out and he is hyper-aware of how close in proximity he is to Richie Tozier.

“Damn, would ya look at that, Eds? That would be so fucking cool, to just have your butt light up. Can you even imagine, like, you’re walking home and all of a sudden your ass starts glowing?”

Eddie snorts into his hand. They had been watching the lightning bugs dot the caliginous sky of Derry in silence, Richie not speaking of his parents and Eddie knowing enough not to prod. “Kind of fucked, isn’t it?” he says after a moment. 

“What is? Having a light-up ass?”

“No, you moron. I mean how these fireflies are the only light in the sky. Like, where are the fucking stars, you know?”

“Really shows the shit of this town, yeah?” Richie retorts, tearing up a blade of grass in his hands absentmindedly. “So polluted that you can’t even see the damn stars.”

“What a shit-show,” Eddie sighs, and Richie hums in agreement. At that, his chest swells with something like pride.

There’s more silence, but Eddie doesn’t mind. He’s content laying here next to his best friend, happy to at least take his mind away from all his shit at home. It makes Eddie sick to his stomach every time Richie shows up at his window and confesses to him that his mom couldn’t remember his name or that his dad threw a bottle of tequila at the wall. It lights a raging fire in Eddie, and it’s all he can do to not pound his small fists into Maggie and Wentworth’s drunken bodies. How can you not absolutely adore your child when he’s Richie fucking Tozier? It boils Eddie’s blood to a point where he has to sit down sometimes.

Richie’s humming a song now. Africa by Toto. Hearing it fills Eddie with warmth, as it always does when Richie sings. For being such a trashmouth, the kid’s got serious talent. He and Beverly even played a song for Eddie on his fifteenth birthday this year. Rich was on bass guitar, and Bev was keyboard. He smiles fondly in remembrance. That night was one of the best in his life.

“It’s gonna take a lot to drag me away from you,” Richie sings, full-on belting now that he’s at the chorus and turning on his side to grin wildly at Eddie.

Fuck it, Eddie thinks. “There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do…”

Miraculously, the two boys both screech, “I bless the rains down in Africa!” right on time with each other, which, of course, makes them fall back into a fit of howling laughter.

There’s a way that Richie’s dark eyes crinkle up when he laughs that always makes Eddie’s stomach do a little somersault. 

But he’s too busy clutching at his sides, eyes brimming with tears as he giggles, to pay too much attention to it this time. 

They are sitting up now, facing each other as Richie reaches out to lay his hand on Eddie’s knee. The patch of skin Richie’s got his fingers on burns at the touch. “Damn, Eds. You really are my fuckin’ soulmate!”

Eddie stops laughing. He’s so focused on what Richie just said that he doesn’t even bitch about the nickname. He tries to fight the blush that rises into his cheeks, but to no avail, he turns away and hopes that Richie can’t see.

“What’s wrong, Spaghetti Head? If you’re that pissed about the nickname I can try to turn it down for the night - ”

“Stop saying that shit, Richie. Stop doing that shit.” His voice is dangerously quiet.

“What?”

“Being so fucking… flirty. All the time.” Oh, shit. Richie is frowning deeply now, trying to get the shorter boy to turn back towards him.

“Eds…”

Nothing.

“Eddie…”

He finally whips around, staring daggers at Richie and poking him in his chest with his index finger. “Don’t ‘Eddie’ me, Richard! You drive me up the fucking wall, you know that?”

Richie doesn’t know what to do besides blink, bewildered.

“You make me absolutely fucking insane! And when we were younger, you know, I thought it was just ‘cause you were annoying, but I was your best friend anyway.” An exasperated laugh bubbles out of Eddie’s throat. Richie is still staring. “And you still drive me crazy, but I was willing to just let it go. Accept it as fact, you know? Richard Tozier makes Edward Kaspbrak lose his mind, and the sky is blue, and water is wet. But then… then… you fucking went and…”

“I what?” Richie’s voice is impossibly soft, and when Eddie looks up from the ground, their faces are only inches apart. Eddie feels like the air between them is charged with an electric current, and it’s almost too much for him to bear. He feels his heart pounding so hard in his ribs that he thinks it’ll burst through his chest.

The way Eddie is glaring at him, Richie thinks for a moment that the smaller boy is finally going to muster up all his courage and punch him square in the face. Richie squeezes his eyes shut, bracing himself for the impact of Eddie’s knuckles on his skin. 

It doesn’t come. Instead, he does something that Richie never expects.

Eddie curls his fists into the soft fabric of Richie’s shirt, tugs him closer, and smashes his mouth right onto Richie’s.

Alarms blare in Richie’s head, a cacophony of sirens screaming, “What the fuck is going on!”. It takes him several seconds to compose himself, fully taking in what’s really happening to him right now, if it’s even real. When Richie kisses him back, though, he is acutely aware that Eddie tastes like strawberry chapstick. Cute, cute, cute.

A similar reaction is occurring inside of Eddie Kaspbrak’s frantic mind. Holy shit did you really just fucking do that you just ruined this whole fucking friendship oh my God nice going dickwad you just fucked up everything up why did you fucking do that? Oh wait he’s kissing you back holy fuck! You’re kissing Richie Tozier and Richie Tozier is kissing you back, holy God Richie fucking Tozier is kissing you right now ohmygod ohmygodohmygod—

He’s interrupted by the erupting volcano in his stomach. Eddie smiles into the kiss, and they shift, lips parting slightly to make it less awkward. Eddie thinks that he can stay right here forever, with Richie’s hand cupping his cheek and the taste of Altoid mints lingering in Richie’s mouth.

Eddie twirls his fingers into Richie’s curls and feels like he’s going to implode. Or explode. Either works. He could die right here, right now, and be a happy man. At the contact, Richie beams. It feels like he’s flying. He’s never been skydiving, but he imagines that it’s a similar sensation.

When they break apart, they’re both breathless and red-faced. “Holy fuck,” Richie says after a while, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. “That was even better than kissing your mom!”

Eddie sighs deeply, putting his head his in his hands. “Tozier, for once in in your life, please shut your goddamn mouth.”

Richie smirks, cocking a brow. “Make me, Kaspbrak.”

“You’re a fucking cliché, you know,” Eddie says, but he pulls Richie down for another kiss anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for reading! this is my first work, like, ever, and i’m not that happy with it. i’m honestly still trying to figure out ao3. needless to say, any feedback would be greatly appreciated! have a wonderful day!


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